Remembering
by Shizuka no Taisho
Summary: None of them could never know the true horrors Loki had suffered. In the bleakness of sentimentality they imagined and whispered of corruption, torture, how his mind had not been his own when he attacked the earth. They were but mortals, limited by the flimsy span of their own imaginations, when in truth reality had been a much crueler mistress.


_Wow, a story that's not slash or pertaining to any sort of relationship! Astounding! Honestly, I was in a mood to write some angst, and since my internet decided to cut out on me for SIX HOURS...ugh. Well, this is one of the things that came to fruition from my boredom. I also have a new Thorki piece in works, because at heart I'm shipper trash._

_Anywho, enjoy this meager glimpse into Loki's mind! He's cuckoo for cocoa puffs, but I adore him. I also completely stand by the theory that there was SOME sort of coercion going on with him and Thanos. Don't agree? ...Probably best you don't read this then._

_Comments and feedback are appreciated~! Actually, I thrive off them. So...gimme? _

**Disclaimer: Marvel isn't mine, blablabla. I think we all knew that by now. **

They could never know the true horrors Loki had suffered. In the bleakness of sentimentality they imagined and whispered of corruption, torture, how his mind had not been his own when he attacked the earth. Loki saw the proof of such thoughts every time he met the good Captain's eyes, or witnessed the man-beast watching him with a sense of pity that made his skin crawl. They thought up the most ruthless crimes possible, yet none of them could ever hope to understand the true horrors Loki had endured. They were but mortals, limited by the flimsy span of their own imaginations, when in truth reality had been a much crueler mistress.

Loki remembered. The scars of his past ran deep, inflicting every inch of his body with inescapable torment. His preternatural healing had been no match for the Chitauri's poisoned claws, nor the tools they'd used so proficiently to take him apart in their shadowed cells, cleaving meat from bone and tearing each scream past his violated lips. His was an alien form, and they had never seen a creature like him before. Loki became a slave for what passed as their science, their ruthless ambition. The sickening scent of copper coagulating on his skin and dripping down his skeletal fingers still haunted his dreams...

Then Thanos had come. Thanos the Mad Titan, with his abhorrent minion that had dug his way into the darkest recesses of Loki's mind and torn open the wounds that the void had left festering. And when the pathway was clear, Thanos had taken every one of his fears and strung them up for perusal, as if he were nothing more than a fascinating trinket worth inspecting. Loki's screams illuminated the cosmos that night, the beginnings of insanity drenching every syllable.

Nothing brought him peace. The titan offered him everything but, torturing his mind and soul until all Loki knew how to do was babble and cry, no better than a child running in fear from the monsters who threatened the sanctity of sleep. But Loki was a monster, the very same he'd been warned of in his youth. Poisonous ice flowed through his veins, his white flesh nothing more than a construct forged by Odin's magic. In the end, Thanos took that from him too. Loki was left with nothing but his madness, and pain. Relentless, all consuming pain.

Only when he teetered on the threshold did he understand what they had planned for him. Thanos was not ignorant to his heritage, nor the home in which he'd been raised. Banished though he was from Odin's love and Asgard's gleaming halls, he was still in possession of knowledge pertaining to their secrets. He was valuable. And Loki, who had only ever been used his entire life, fought to spare himself from that fate once again by being exactly what Thanos needed. He made play he was a traitor, stepping into the role that had been orchestrated for him since the day he was born, a mere babe left abandoned to the cold embrace of Jotunheim's wailing winds.

It was nothing short of a miracle that his scheme had worked. But Loki never imagined that those he'd meant to turn on him would instead fight so valiantly for his freedom. The naive fools. They knew not what they sought to free him from. Nor had he yet summoned the strength to speak its name. Loki feared, and so he dreamed, terrible visions of a loveless void and those who had plucked him from it for their own twisted needs. From those there was no real escape. Every night they came to him, haunting his thoughts, always with a chorus of laughter that spun ribbons of terror throughout his weeping core.

The Other had sworn that he would wish for something as sweet as pain when Thanos was finished with him. Loki believed him. The sanctity of Avengers Tower was fleeting, a balm that only served to ease his wounds before they would once again be exposed to corrosion and fear. One day...Thanos would come for him. And when he did, there would be nothing to stop his wrath from descending upon the lowly little trickster who had tried to escape his clutches. Loki had no deals to make, or schemes to enact. His fate rested solely in the hands of those that struggled to embrace him, speaking in whispers behind his back. Whispers of madness, and a gaze that once burned tesseract blue.

Earth's greatest heroes. Loki had once imagined himself to be their better. In the hands of those monsters though, they would all be equal. He only wondered now how long it would take for them to be broken, as he had, and made prostrate beneath the might of Thanos. Perhaps then they might understand his suffering, feel the weight of sorrow that clung to his bones. It was a comforting thought, a wish yet unfulfilled. And it was also his most unconvincing lie yet.


End file.
